All the
passages below are taken from Charles R Swindoll’s book “David” published in
1997.

David had
bottomed out.

In a
downward swirl of events, he lost his job, his wife, his home, his counselor,
his closest friend, and finally his self-respect.
When we left him last, he was dribbling saliva down his beard and scratching on
the gate of the enemy like a madman. Realizing that his identity was known by
the Philistines, he feigned insanity and then slipped out of the city of Gath.
Once more he was a man on the run.

So David departed from there
and escaped to the cave of Adullam.
. . . 1 Samuel 22:1 (NASB)

THE CAVE: HOW IT
HAPPENED

This was the
lowest moment of David's life to date, and if you want to know how he really
felt, just read the song he composed about it, Psalm 142. He had no security,
he had no food, he had no one to talk to, he had no promise to cling to, and he
had no hope that anything would everchange.
He was alone in a dark cave, away from everything and everybody he loved.
Everybody except God.

No wonder he
wrote this baleful song of sorrow:

I cry aloud with my voice to the LORD;

I make supplication with my voice to the
LORD.

I pour out my complaint before Him;

I declare my trouble before Him.

When my spirit was overwhelmed within me,

Thou didst know my path.

In the way where I walk

They have hidden a trap for me.

Look to the right and see;

For there is no one who regards me;

There is no escape for me;

No one cares for my soul.

I cried out to Thee, 0 LORD;

I said, "Thou art my refuge,

My portion in the land of the living.

Give heed to my cry,

For I am brought very low;

Deliver me from my persecutors,

For they are too strong for me.

Bring my soul out of prison,

So that I may give thanks to Thy name;

The righteous will surround me,

For Thou wilt deal bountifully with me."

Psalm 142 (NASB)

That's the way
David felt as a cave dweller. "I don't know of a soul on earth who cares for my
soul. I am brought very low. Deliver me, Lord."

Can you feel
the loneliness of that desolate spot? The dampness of that cave? Can you feel
David's despair? The depths to which his life has sunk? There is no escape.
There is nothing left. Nothing.

Yet in the
midst of all this, David has not lost sight of God. He cries out for the Lord to
deliver him. And here we catch sight of the very heart of the man, that
inward place that only God truly sees, that unseen quality that God saw when he
chose and anointed the young shepherd boy from Bethlehem.

THE CHALLENGE:
WHAT IT INVOLVED

David has
been brought to the place where God can truly begin to shape him and use him.
When the sovereign God brings us to nothing, it is to reroute our lives, not
to end them. Human perspective says, "Aha, you've lost this, you've lost
that. You've caused this, you've caused that. You've ruined this, you've ruined
that. End your life!" But God says, "No. No. You're in the cave. But that
doesn't mean it's curtains. That means it's time to reroute your life. Now's the
time to start anew!" That's exactly what he does with David.

David hangs out
no shingle. He advertises no need, except to God. He is alone in a cave. And
look at what God did. Look who came to join him: "When his brothers and all his
father's household heard of it [David's escape to the cave], they went down
there to him" (22:1).

Remember, it
hasn't been all that long since David's family didn't pay any attention to him.
His own father had almost forgotten he existed when Samuel came to the house
looking for a possible candidate for the kingship. Samuel had to say, "Are these
all your sons?" And Jesse snapped his fingers and said, "Oh, no, I've got a son
who keeps the sheep." And later, when he went to the battle and was going to
take up arms against Goliath, his brothers put him down, saying, "We know why
you're really here. You just want to be seen."

But here he
is, broken, at the end, without crutches. . . . crushed in spirit. And would you look
who comes to him? Those same brothers and his father along with the rest of the
household.

Sometimes when
you're in the cave, you don't want others around. Sometimes you just can't stand
to be with people. You hate to admit it publicly; in fact, you usually don't.
But it's true. Sometimes you just want to be alone. And I have a feeling that at
that moment in his life, this cave dweller,David, wanted nobody around. Because if
he wasn't worth anything to himself, he didn't see his worth to anybody else.

David didn't
want his family, but they came. He didn't want them there, but God brought them
anyway. They crawled right into that cave with him.

But look! They
weren't the only ones.

And everyone who was in distress, and
everyone who was in debt, and everyone who was discontented, gathered to him;
and he became captain over them. Now there were about four hundred men with him.
(1 Samuel 22:2 NASB)

What a group!
"Everyone who was in distress" came. The Hebrew word here, zuk, means not
only "in distress," but "under pressure, under stress." So here came hundreds of
pressured people.

Second,
"everyone who was in debt," made their way there. The Hebrew here, nashah,
means "to lend on interest, to have a number of creditors." So these were people
who couldn't pay their bills.

And third, here
came "everyone who was discontented." The Hebrew here, maar nephesh,
means "to be in bitterness of soul, to have been wronged and mistreated." That
group came too.

What does all
this mean? Well, in that day the land was aching under the rule of Saul. He had
overtaxed the people. He had mistreated them. He was a madman, given to intense
depression, and they were suffering the consequences. Some couldn't stand it any
longer. So David ended up with a cave full of malcontents. Can you imagine that?
It's bad enough to be in there alone feeling like a worm. But to have over 400
more worms crawl in there with you, that's a mess!

But God is
at work here. He is rerouting David's life. Sure, the man is in the cave. Sure,
he feels worthless. He feels useless. He feels mistreated. He feels
misunderstood. That's why he's in the cave. And before he can spit, his brothers
come. The rest of his family comes. And then before he can find them a place to
sit down, strangers of all sorts begin to drop in. I don't know how the word
traveled, but before long there were 400 fellow cave dwellers looking to him as
their leader.

That cave was
no longer David's escape hatch. If you can believe it, the smelly, dank cave
became a place of training for those who were the beginning of the army that
would be called "David's mighty men of valor." That's right---this motley
crew would become his mighty men in battle, and later they would become his
cabinet when he took office. He turned their lives around and built into them
order and discipline and character and direction.

David was
beaten all the way down, until there was no way to look but up. And when he
looked up, God was there, bringing this bunch of unknowns to him little by
little until finally they proved themselves to be the mightiest men of Israel.
Wow!

What a turning
point in David's life, when he made the crucial decision not to walk away. He
would accept his situation and make the best of it. If it was a cave, so be it.
If those around him needed leadership, he'd provide it. Who would've ever
guessed that the next king of Israel was training his troops in a dark cave
where nobody saw and nobody cared. How unusual of God . . . yet how carefully He
planned it!

David became
a sort of Robin Hood. His
Sherwood Forest was the rugged Judean wilderness, with its mountains, caves, and
deep wadis. There, he commanded a group of mavericks because God wanted him to
become a maverick king. Israel would never see another king like David.

We looked at
Psalm 142. Now let's look at two others David wrote, Psalms 57 and 34. We don't
know in what order he wrote these, but looking at his life, they seem to fit in
this backward order---142 when he was at his lowest moment on his face, Psalm 57
when he's on his knees, and finally Psalm 34 when he's on his feet.

Notice that
Psalm 57 is titled "A Mikhtam of David, when he fled from Saul, in the cave"
(the descriptive line at the beginning of many of the psalms gives you their
author and their context).

Be gracious to me, 0 God, be gracious to
me,

For my soul takes refuge in Thee;

And in the shadow of Thy wings I will
take refuge,

Until destruction passes by.

I will cry to God Most High,

To God who accomplishes all things for
me.

He will send from heaven and save me.
..(vv. 1-3).

At this point,
David is on his knees. He's still down, but at least he's looking up. He's no
longer just looking within. Then he says,

My soul is among lions;

I must lie among those who breathe forth
fire,

Even the sons of men, whose teeth are
spears and arrows,

And their tongue a sharp sword.
. . (v. 4).

This sounds as
though it was written when the strangers began to crowd into the cave. If
you've ever worked with malcontents, you know that's true. They are a thankless,
coarse, thoughtless body of people, so overwhelmed with their own needs they
don't pay attention to anyone else's.

And so David
says to God,

Be exalted above the heavens, 0 God ...

My heart is steadfast, 0 God, my heart is
steadfast;

I will sing, yes, I will sing praises!
...

Be exalted above the heavens, 0 God;

Let Thy glory be above all the earth
(vv. 5, 7, 11).

See where
David's eyes are now? "0 God, You be exalted." In Psalm 142 he's saying, "I'm in
the cave, I'm at the end, there's no one on the right hand or left. I have no
one who cares." And now in Psalm 57 he says, "Now you be gracious to me, God.
I'm stretched, I'm pulled beyond my limits. You meet my needs."

He's crying out
his declaration of dependence.

Now look at
Psalm 34, which I believe is the third psalm he wrote while in the cave. What a
difference. What a change has come over David! He says,

I will bless the LORD at all times

His praise shall continually be in my
mouth (v. 1).

Later we
learn that David's men became acutely able with the sword and with the bow and
arrow. Obviously, they had training practices. They learned how to get their act
together in battle. They developed discipline in the ranks. They might have been
mavericks, but they are on the way to becoming skilled hunters and courageous
fighters.

So David,
seeing his men marching in step and using the sword and the spear and the bow
with skill, says to them, "Magnify the LORD with me, let us exalt His name
together." He's putting their eyes on the LORD. "I sought the LORD, and He
answered me, and delivered me from all my fears."

To the
distressed among the group he says, "0 taste and see that the LORD is good; how
blessed is the man who takes refuge in Him!"

To those in
debt he says, "O fear the LORD, you His saints; for to those who fear Him, there
is no want."

To the
discontented he says, "The young lions do lack and suffer hunger; but they who
seek the LORD shall not be in want of any good thing."

And finally,
he gives sort of a wrap-up lesson to the entire group: "Many are the afflictions
of the righteous [dark and lonely are the caves of the righteous]; but the LORD
delivers him out of them all."

THE CHANGE: WHY
IT OCCURRED

Why did such a
major change take place in David's life and attitude?

First,
becauseDavid hurt enough to admit his need. When
you are hurting, you need to declare it to someone, and especially to the Lord.
David hurt enough to admit his need.

Some years ago,
I read one man's moving account of his attempt to get a group of fourteen men
and women in the church to communicate with one another at more than a
superficial level. Many of these people had been attending the same church for
years without knowing anyone else's personal feelings about anything.

In an
effort to help them learn how to communicate with one another at a deeper level,
this man suggested that various individuals in the group relate some incidents
from their past that had helped form their personalities. Much to his
disappointment, every one of the fourteen related only positive experiences and
feelings.

Near the end of
the session, however, one young woman began pouring out her feelings of
insecurity, inferiority, and despair. She concluded by stating that all she
wanted was what the other people in the group already had.

The man says,
"We sat there stunned by the reality which had drawn us irresistibly toward this
thin, totally unprotected young woman. It was we who needed what she had: the
ability to be open, personal, honest in a vulnerable way. As I looked around the
group, I knew that somehow because this theologically unsophisticated, honest
woman had turned loose her silence and her pride and had reached out in total
honesty that it was safe for us to start becoming one in Christ Jesus."

David hurt
enough to admit his need.

Second,
he was honest enough to cry for help. We have lived under such a
veneer for so long in our generation that we hardly know how to cry for help.
But God honors such vulnerability. He did then . . . He does now.

And third,
he was humble enough to learn from God. How tragic it is that we
can live in one cave after another and never learn from God. Not David! I love
the man's utter humility. If it is to be a cave, then let's not fight it. We'll
turn it into a training ground for the future!

As I look at
this time in David's life, I cannot help but reflect upon Jesus and His coming
from the glories of heaven to accept a body of malcontents and sinners like us.

Some of us
are living in an emotional cave, where it is dark and dismal, damp and
disillusioning. Perhaps the hardest part of all is that we cannot declare the
truth to anybody else because it is so desperate ... so lonely.

I weary of the
philosophy that the Christian life is just one silver-lined cloud after
another---just soaring. It is not! Sometimes the Christian life includes a deep,
dark cave.

Remember, the
conversion of a soul is the miracle of a moment, but the making of a saint is
the task of a lifetime. And God isn't about to give up, even when you're in such
a cave. He's not through, even though you're the lowest you've ever been.

Sometimes
life feels like a dry, barren wind off a lonely desert. And something inside us
begins to wilt. At other times it feels more like chilling mist. Seeping through
our pores, it numbs our spirit and fogs the path before us. What is it about
discouragement that strips our lives of joy and leaves us feeling vulnerable and
exposed?

Well, I don't
know all the reasons. I don't even know most of the reasons. But I do know one
of the reasons: We don't have a refuge. Now think about that. Shelters are hard
to come by these days, yet we all need harbors to pull into when we feel
weather-worn and blasted by the storm.

I have an old
Marine buddy who became a Christian several years after he was discharged from
the Corps. Let me tell you, when news of his conversion reached me, I was
wonderfully surprised. Shocked is a better word! He was one of those guys you'd
never picture being interested in spiritual things. He cursed loudly, drank
heavily, fought hard, and chased women. He loved weapons and hated chapel
services. In the drill instructor's opinion, he made a GREAT Marine. But God?
Well, to put it mildly, he and God weren't on speaking terms when I bumped
around with him.

And then one
day we ran into each other. As the conversation turned to his salvation, he
frowned, looked me right in the eye, put his hand on my shoulder, and admitted:
"Chuck, the only thing I miss is that old fellowship all the guys in our outfit
used to have down at the slop shoot (that's a term for the tavern on the base).
Man, we'd sit around, laugh, tell stories, drink a few beers," he said. "And
we'd really let our hair down. It . . . it was great!" And then he paused. "I
... I just haven't found anything to take the place of that great time we used
to enjoy. I ain't got nobody to admit my faults to," he said, ". .. to have
'em put their arms around me and tell me I'm still okay."

You know, my
stomach churned when I heard that. Not because I was shocked, but because I
really had to agree. The man needed a refuge, someone to hear him out.

That incident
reminded me of something I had read several years ago:The neighborhood bar is possibly the best
counterfeit there is to the fellowship Christ wants to give His church. It's an
imitation, dispensing liquor instead of grace, escape rather than reality, but
it is a permissive, accepting, and inclusive fellowship. It is unshockable. It
is democratic. You can tell people secrets and they usually don't tell others or
even want to. The bar flourishes not because most people are alcoholics, but
because God has put into the human heart the desire to know and be known, to
love and be loved, and so many seek a counterfeit at the price of a few beers.

With all my
heart I believe that Christ wants His church to be . . . a fellowship where
people can come in and say, "I'm sunk!" "I'm beat!" "I've had it!"1

Now let me get
painfully specific with you. Where do you turn when the bottom drops
out of your life? Or when you face an issue that is embarrassing . . .
maybe even scandalous?

You just discovered your son is a
practicing homosexual. Where do you go? Your mate is talking separation or
divorce. Your daughter has run away for the fourth time . . . and this time
you're afraid she's pregnant. How about when you've lost your job and it's
your fault. Or, financially, you have blown it. Where do you go when your parent
is an alcoholic? Or you find out your wife's having an affair? Where do you turn
when you flunk your entrance exam or you mess up the interview? Who do you turn
to when you're tossed into jail because you broke the law? 2

You need a
shelter. A listener. Someone who understands. You need a cave to duck into.

But to whom
do you turn when there's no one to tell your troubles to? Where do you find
encouragement?

David was
just such a man, and he turned to the living God and found in Him a place to
rest and repair. Cornered, bruised by adversity, struggling with discouragement
and despair, he wrote these words in his journal of woes: "In Thee, 0 LORD, I
have taken refuge" (Ps. 31:1).

Failing in
strength and wounded in spirit, David cries out his need for a "refuge." The
Hebrew term speaks of a protective place, a place of safety and security and
secrecy. He tells the Lord that He---Jehovah God---became his refuge. In Him the
troubled man found encouragement.

Now, a final,
all-important question: Why do we need a refuge? As I read through
another Psalm (31), I find at least three answers to that question.

First,
we need a refuge because we are in distress and sorrow accompanies us.
You know those feelings, don't you? Your eyes get red from weeping. The heavy
weights of sorrow press down. Depression, that serpent of despair, slithers
silently through the soul's back door. That's when we need a refuge.

Also,
we need a refuge because we are sinful and guilt accuses us. You
know, there's a lot of pain woven through those words. Embarrassment. Feelings
like, "It's my fault." What tough words to choke out! "I'm to blame."

Harried and
haunted by self-inflicted sorrow, we desperately search for a place to hide. But
perhaps the most devastating blow of all is dealt by others.

That brings me
to the third reason we need a refuge. We need a refuge
because we are surrounded by adversaries and misunderstanding assaults us.

Tortured by the
whisperings of others, we feel like a wounded, bleeding mouse in the paws of a
hungry cat. The thought of what people are saying is more than we can bear.
Gossip (even its name hisses), gives the final shove as we strive for survival
at the ragged edge of despair.

Discouraged
people don't need critics. They hurt enough already. They don't need more guilt
or piled-on distress. They need encouragement. In a word, they need a refuge. A
place to hide and heal. A willing, caring, available someone. A confidant. A
comrade at arms. You can't find one? Why not share David's shelter? The One
he called "my Strength ... my Mighty Rock . . . my Fortress . . . my Stronghold
. . . my High Tower."

We know Him
today by another name: Jesus. He's still available ... even to cave dwellers,
lonely people needing someone to care. [71-81]